


to love you on my own terms

by citrina



Series: i never wanted anybody else [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Avatar: The Last Airbender (Comics)
Genre: Bakoda - Freeform, Bakoda Fleet Week, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, Companion Piece, Homophobia, Injury, Kissing, M/M, Minor Angst, North and South Comics (Avatar), also bato and hakoda both suck at names i have decided, prompt: interrupted, sorry bout that, tw: forced outing, yes homophobia is alive and real in the swt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrina/pseuds/citrina
Summary: Companion piece to “take your time on me”. Set during the North & South comics, Bato and Hakoda are interrupted by Sokka and Katara. Meanwhile, a revolution is brewing.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar)
Series: i never wanted anybody else [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852534
Comments: 8
Kudos: 112
Collections: Bakoda Fleet Week 2020





	to love you on my own terms

**Author's Note:**

> Bakoda Fleet Week Day 3: Interrupted
> 
> Here is day three... this one sort of got away from me. Not sure if I'm crazy about the result, but it's got a few good bits so I'm still posting it. It'll make more sense if you read the companion, "take your time on me" first, as well as the North & South comics. This starts right after the briefcase is stolen.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the ATLA cartoon, comics, or any official affiliated content. If I did, then Zuko would've been less of an idiot in The Promise.

“Hakoda! I heard what happened! Are you alright?” Bato pushes through the crowded streets, hurrying towards Hakoda and the two Northern architects. The woman is knocked out, and the man’s round glasses are askew. Hakoda’s kids are nowhere to be found. They’re outside a Northern-style restaurant Bato has never visited before, put off by the odd-yet-familiar food of the north. 

“We’re fine,” the Northern architect sneers, adjusting his glasses. Bato can’t remember his name- Marik? Mallok? Something starting with an M, he knows. “Who are you?” the man asks imperiously.

“This is Bato,” Hakoda cuts in, grabbing Bato’s arm in the customary warrior’s greeting. Despite their romantic relationship, they’ve greeted each other like this for so long that it would be odd to do anything else. “He’s a trusted advisor and friend.”

Bato raises an eyebrow. That’s one way of putting their relationship, he supposes, but it seems a little strange. It hardly encompasses the nature of their old friendship-turned-love. In fact, it makes Bato look like some sort of work colleague or warrior buddy.

“Hakoda, what’s going on? Were you hurt?” Bato checks Hakoda over for injuries, but he looks fine, just a little shaken. 

“I’m okay,” Hakoda says. “But Malina here hit her head on the table, and Maliq was struck with his own briefcase.” He gestures to the two Northerners. 

“There’s a healer only a few blocks from here,” Bato tells Maliq, pointing down the road in the right direction. Maliq scoffs, despite the large bruise Bato can see forming on his cheekbone.

“Bah! And let non-benders deal with a head injury? I’ll take Malina back to the hotel myself,” Maliq says, standing up with Malina in his arms. “In the North, we trust only the best waterbending women to heal.” He marches out with his unconscious sister hanging limply against him, head sagging at an angle that will surely make her neck sore when she wakes.

“What’s his problem?” Bato asks. Hakoda shrugs. They start walking down the street, heading for Hakoda’s mother-in-law’s igloo. Despite all the plans for a fancy High Chief palace, Hakoda still seems to prefer the familiarity of the igloo.

“I think he’s just worried about Malina, and the stolen briefcase. I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be offensive.”

“If you’re sure,” Bato says. After all, Hakoda has spent more time working on the Southern Reconstruction Project with these architects than Bato has. But the way Maliq had scoffed doesn’t sit right with Bato.

“Look, Bato,” Hakoda starts, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry I introduced you to them like that. It’s not how I wanted it to go.”

“So I’m not imagining it, then,” says Bato, frowning a little. “It felt like I was some sort of work friend.”

“I know,” Hakoda sighs. “But the Northerners, they wouldn’t understand. In the North it’s not socially acceptable for men to be… well, for men to be like us.”

“Okay, but down here it’s no big deal,” Bato reasons. “I mean, it’s not exactly celebrated, but it’s not illegal like in the Fire Nation.”

“Actually, Sokka and Katara’s little Fire Lord friend Zuko recently repealed that law,” Hakoda says with a grin. “Somehow I wonder how much of that decision has to do with my son.”

“Really? Sokka with royalty? He’d cause an international debacle,” Bato grins at the thought of goofy, sweet Sokka dating the actual Fire Lord, the symbol of power and, for a long time, fear. Wild.

“You’d be surprised. But Bato,” Hakoda says more seriously, “I don’t want to hurt you, or hide you. I love you and I don’t want to be ashamed of that. I’m sorry I covered it up for Malina and Maliq.”

“There’s more, isn’t there? I can tell that there’s something else on your mind.” Bato knows Hakoda’s thoughts better than he knows his own. He’s not mad at Hakoda, knowing now how the Northerners would react. He respects Hakoda’s decisions too much to resent it.

“I think I want to tell the kids,” Hakoda says. “Sokka and Katara deserve to know. I wasn’t sure if they’d be ready, but I know now that they are.”

Bato nods. He’s been willing to let Sokka and Katara know for months, ever since they first got together, but Hakoda had been more wary. The kids had been busy travelling and securing peace, and he didn’t want to distract them. But Bato knew, even if Hakoda wouldn’t admit it, that he was also scared for the kids’ reaction. Seeing their widower, presumably straight father date one of his closest male buddies would surely be strange for any child.

“I’d love for Sokka and Katara to know, you know that. What else?” Bato gently prods Hakoda with one gloved finger as they walk. Sometimes Hakoda, for all that he is open and talkative, can struggle to express what he really wants to say. It’s taken Bato years of practice to know how exactly to get him to open up fully.

“I think I want to go public,” Hakoda admits. “I don’t want to keep our relationship secret anymore. I know it might hurt my reputation as the chief, but it isn’t something I should have to hide.”

“Really?” Of the two of them, Bato has always been more private, but he’s not the one whose position is precarious. He’s just a normal warrior, a respected man of the tribe but not a leading one. Hakoda is a chief, though, and not just any chief; he’s been elected Head Chieftain, and that means he’s in the public eye of not just the Southern Water Tribe but also the whole world.

“Really. Would you be okay with that?” Hakoda looks timid, suddenly. He doesn’t get nervous much anymore, and he was never shy as a child, but Bato is reminded of the day they went ice dodging, how nervous Hakoda had been before his trial and how Bato had realized just how much he cared for his best friend. As kids, Bato had been the only one Hakoda allowed to see his fear and falters in confidence. He’s still the only one.

“I’d be over the moon about it, Hakoda,” Bato smiles. They’ve reached the igloo, and Bato opens the door. He grabs Hakoda’s hand, and Hakoda looks down at their connected palms, then up at Bato, like he’s witnessed a miracle. 

“Oh, thank the spirits,” Hakoda lets out a sigh of relief. “I was so scared you’d disagree.”

Bato smiles. He knows Hakoda so well, it amuses him when he can predict what he’s going to say. 

“I know. It’s cute that you were so worried,” he says, before gathering Hakoda up into his arms and into a kiss, deep and searing. Hakoda eagerly returns the kiss, and they stumble into the igloo together, unwilling to disconnect. They topple onto the bed, giggling as they make out like teenagers. Bato winces when his old burn scars twinge, but he’s still laughing.

“We’re too old for this,” Bato mumbles between kisses.

“Who’re you calling old? I’m four months younger than you,” Hakoda jokes. Bato doesn’t say anything, mostly because his mouth is otherwise occupied, but he nips at Hakoda’s lower lip lightly in response.

“Oh, it’s on,” Hakoda laughs. In one smooth motion, he flips Bato down under him, leaning over. Bato’s heart does a complicated flip that would make a firebender proud. He’s bubbling with warmth and pure joy at this, all of this, and it’s threatening to overflow.

Hakoda captures his lips in a deep kiss, pressing Bato down into the bed. Bato lets him, feeling more content than he has in weeks. This is how his life should be, what he dreamed of for years without avail. Hakoda, with him, and nothing else mattering. 

He almost doesn’t hear the stomping of snow boots outside the igloo, or the door creaking open. 

“-where are your manners, Sokka? You have to--” Katara’s voice cuts off, and Bato definitely feels Hakoda freeze above him. Their lips are still connected, but Bato feels all the warmth in his body turn to ice.

“--knock,” Katara finishes weakly. 

Hakoda apparently regains control of his body, and sits up abruptly. Bato’s still stunned, lying on the bed like a dazed otter penguin. Sokka and Katara are standing, open-mouthed, in the doorway, looking disheveled and exhausted. Bato sits up too after a second, and all four of them stare at each other for a beat, nobody speaking.

Sokka breaks the silence first, reaching for the door handle. “We’re just gonna go, we’ll see you tomorrow I guess bye!” He slams the door shut, and Bato hears the siblings hurry away, their boots scuffling on the snow.

“Well, that could’ve gone better,” Bato comments, as Hakoda puts his face in his hands and groans.

.oOo.

The festival is in full swing. Bato wanders around in search of something to eat, sidling past the various carnival games when he spots Katara, Sokka, and their friends all standing together. Sokka is playing one of the games, while the earthbender girl (what was her name? Tough?) is laden down with a pile of plushie prizes. Bato spots a stuffed badgermole, a purple pentapus, and even a little replica of Momo in her arms. Katara and the Avatar have their heads bent together, arms linked, in a whispered conversation. 

Bato hasn’t had a chance to talk to Katara and Sokka at all since last night’s embarrassing interruption. Hakoda had filled him in on the details of their discoveries in the abandoned warship, and the message Gilak had left earlier, but now Hakoda is on guard and Bato is alone. He doesn’t want to cause a scene, but before he can back away, Katara spots him. 

“Bato! Wait up!” Katara calls, splitting from her group. Bato pauses.

“Hey, Bato. I just wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday,” Katara says, shifting from foot to foot. “I had a talk with Dad, because I didn’t really get it at first. But now I do.” She glances back at Aang, who’s cheering Sokka on in the game.

“It’s fine,” Bato says. “I was never mad, just a little embarrassed. It wasn’t how we wanted you two to find out, but we were planning to tell you soon anyway.”

“Well, I wanted to let you know that, uh, Sokka and I approve,” Katara says, then winces. “Not that you need our approval or anything, you’re a grown-up and we’re kids, but you know--”

Bato laughs, and Katara stops with a sheepish grin. “I get it, Katara,” Bato says. “And it does mean a lot, to know that you and Sokka accept me as part of your family. Thank you.”

“You were already part of the family, you know,” Katara says earnestly. 

Bato’s eyes prick with sudden tears. He didn’t realize, until now, how much it meant to him to be part of Hakoda’s family. It’s something he really, really wanted, more than anything in his life.

“Thank you, Katara,” Bato says, patting the girl on the shoulder with one gloved hand, a fatherly gesture he’s watched Hakoda perform a hundred times. Before she can respond, though, a voice rings out from the central platform in the square. It’s the Northern reconstructionist woman, Malina.

“Good evening, my brothers and sisters of the South!” Malina greets, clearly preparing for a speech. Bato straightens.

“Well, I’d better go find your father,” he tells Katara, who’s returned to Aang’s side. She nods and waves goodbye. But when the Earth Kingdom girl drops her stuffed animal prizes and places one hand on the ground, Bato stops to watch her.

“I feel something… someone coming towards us!” She stands up again, muttering something about shoes that Bato can’t make out. “Heads up, Team Avatar!”

Onstage, Malina calls for “Executive Partner Toph Beifong”, and the girl goes stomping up to the stage, shouting for everyone to leave. Toph must be her name, Bato thinks, though it isn’t exactly important right now. Sokka has gotten his boomerang out, while Katara and Aang have both bent water around themselves and stepped into a fighting stance. It’s impressive how quickly the kids are ready to fight, trusting in an instant and without a doubt that what Toph says is true.

Then the giant drill breaks through the snow, and all hell breaks loose.

.oOo.

In the chaos, Bato loses sight of the kids. He’s trying not to fight -- after all, most of the people attacking are his fellow tribesmen -- but warriors keep slashing at him with their club-swords, making it impossible to get out of the way. Smoke from the drill and the factory block out the sky, hiding the stars from view.

“What’s going on? What are you doing?” Bato shouts, narrowly avoiding being impaled by Aluata’s spear. He and Aluata have gone on dozens of missions together, hunting down puffin-seals and Fire Nation squadrons alike. They’ve known each other since childhood, even if they’ve never been very close. But apparently Aluata has forgotten, as he aims another stab, this one at Bato’s right leg. He dodges.

“You and Chief Hakoda are traitors!” Aluata yells, readying the spear for another stab. Bato grabs it swiftly and snaps it in half, tossing the two pieces into the snow. Aluata never was the fastest, and he’s weighed down by his heavy old-fashioned armor.

“I am no traitor!” 

“Folding to these Northern invaders! What would I expect from you? You’ve always had the spine of a sea sponge when it came to Hakoda.” Aluata makes a grab for Bato’s bad arm, but he backs away.

“You’re acting crazy, Aluata,” Bato argues. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m as loyal to the tribe as I’ve always been.”

“Loyal to the tribe, or loyal to your precious chief?” Aluata snarls. “We all suspected, of course, but this is just too sweet. Traitor to the tribe, for love,” he spits.

“Wha-? How did you know?” Bato stumbles back. They’d never told a soul until Sokka and Katara found out the day before.

“Don’t insult our intelligence. You’ve always followed him around since we were kids like a sad little polar dog puppy.” He smirks, suddenly. “Luckily, Gilak should’ve gotten to him by now.”

Bato’s blood runs cold. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say we have a plan to put a new chief in power. But if Gilak hasn’t found him yet, I recommend you try your best.” With a sarcastic bark of laughter, Aluata backs away. 

Bato doesn’t waste his time responding.

.oOo.

Hakoda wakes to find himself tucked in bed, his children hovering above him. He must have passed out at some point, then, from the pain. Gilak always was a slippery one. 

“Katara…?” His daughter immediately lights up, blue eyes bright when she sees that he’s awake. Spirits, but she looks so much like Kya.

“Dad!” She hugs him tight, careful not to touch his wound. 

“You saved my life,” Hakoda whispers wonderingly, remembering how Gilak had cornered him, tricked him and pretended to reconsider. How Gilak had stabbed him right in the gut, using the standard-issue knife that Hakoda himself had given to all the warriors years ago. But Katara’s healing had saved him. Pride surges in his chest for his little girl who has grown into such a powerful bender.

“You had us scared for a bit, Dad,” Sokka says, clearly also relieved. Soon after, Katara and Sokka leave, exhausted after a night of fighting and healing. Hakoda hears them arguing over Gilak, Malina, and Maliq as they exit. He relaxes back into bed, but he can’t help but wonder which one of them was right. 

Is Hakoda making the wrong call, by trusting the Northern Reconstructionists? Should he be trying harder to preserve Southern culture, or should he be striving to push them into the modern world? He’s seen how Maliq looks down his nose at their southern traditions, ones that Hakoda loves dearly. But at the same time, he knows the economic implications of the oil that they claim is sitting under the snow. That money could help the tribe so much, help them preserve their culture and become equals to the other nations. How can he get the rest of the tribe to see that?

Hakoda’s thoughts are interrupted by the door opening again. Bato ducks in, looking worn out and worried. His wolf tail is falling out and his fur coat is dirty, but when he sees Hakoda awake his face splits into a relieved smile. 

“The kids said you were up,” Bato says, making his way over to Hakoda’s bed. “I’m glad to see you’re recovering. We’ve got to stop getting injured like this,” he gestures at their bodies, clearly recalling his own burns and Hakoda’s injury on the Day of Black Sun.

“Katara’s healing has come a long way,” Hakoda comments. “Without her, I suspect this would’ve been much worse.”

“Look, Hakoda,” Bato says. His face is steady and sharp, expression like one readying for battle. “Today, at the festival…”

“I know, I can’t believe it either. A giant drill? I’ve never seen such a thing.” 

“No, not that,” Bato says, pensive. “I was going to say, when I was there, I fought Aluata.”

“Really? He’s part of this?” Hakoda thinks back to Aluata’s quick temper, his vehement hatred of the Fire Nation and appreciation for spear fighting. “Actually, no, I can definitely imagine Aluata being part of this.”

“Yes. And he knew. About us,” Bato clarifies.

“What!” Hakoda attempts to sit up, and his stab wound protests. “But I never told anyone!”

“I know,” Bato says. “Neither did I. Apparently, many of the men suspected it, even long before we got together.”

“Well, that’s one way to tell the public,” Hakoda attempts to joke. “Just let the warriors do it for us.”

“Hakoda, don’t joke. This isn’t funny,” Bato scowls. Hakoda grabs his hand.

“I know, sorry. But am I ever going to be able to just… tell people when I want to? Is it always going to be forcibly revealed?” Hakoda sighs. “I just want to love you on my own terms.”

“Me too,” Bato says, but he draws his hand back. “You really scared me today, getting hurt like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Hakoda repeats. He remembers how helpless he’d felt when Bato had been burned all those months ago by the Fire Nation soldiers. 

“I don’t really get all this political stuff,” Bato continues. “That’s more your area of expertise. But I do know that I love you, and that I’m going to support you in whatever choice you make.”

“Thank you,” Hakoda says, pulling Bato down into a hug. It’s not enough, but he knows that Bato understands.

“When we were fighting, Aluata said something,” Bato leans into the embrace, and Hakoda revels in the warmth of his body. “He said I was loyal to you, but not to the tribe.”

“That’s terrible!” Hakoda exclaims, pushing Bato up so he can look him in the eye. “That’s not true at all.”

“The thing is, he wasn’t wrong,” Bato sits up, a frown twisting his features.

“Of course he is, that’s crazy. And anyway, since I’m High Chieftain now, what’s the difference?” 

Bato gives him a fond look. “You know it’s not that simple. I am more loyal to you than to the tribe as a whole. But I can be, because I trust that you will always be the one who is loyal to the tribe.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re the best leader I know, and that you will always do what’s right for the tribe.” Bato gives him a gentle kiss. “And in choosing you, I’m choosing the tribe, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I'm incapable of not writing fluffy makeup scenes, because I can't stand to see my faves sad for more than a few paragraphs. This fic is definitely longer than my usual, but it kind of gained a life of its own and I wanted to let it happen.
> 
> How did I do? Please leave a comment! Visit me on tumblr at chief-yue.tumblr.com.


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